She was on her way to have a shower when the wave hit. All she could do was fall onto the bed, clutching her towels to her chest as if to staunch blood from a wound in her chest. But life-wounds don’t bleed; they ooze sorrow. A life-wound, repeatedly slashed, becomes a magnetized void, an attractant to more pain and grief.She rocked and wailed until the feeling passed,until she no longer keened as if grieving a lost child. Spent and tired, she took an hour to assemble her shower items, and turn on the faucet.